HICKEY

by Cora Brent

  As I rushed out of the room and back down the hall with my unconscious roommate I tried to keep my breathing shallow so I wouldn’t be overcome by the smoke.

  The foot I had used to kick down the door throbbed like a motherfucker. Dimly I realized there might be some broken bones in there but I couldn’t let that slow me down. Adrenaline and force of will and perhaps a guardian angel or two pushed me down the hall and back into the west stairwell.

  I practically galloped down the steps and within seconds I was back outside, gulping in blissfully smoke free air. At that point my legs buckled and I sank down to the concrete, sliding Kevin from my shoulders as gently as I could.

  “Bran!” screamed a voice and it was sweet music.

  It was Cecily.

  She shouted my name again and I squinted, trying to see her in the crowd of figures that dotted my vision. My eyes were still so stung by the smoke that I couldn’t tell one person from the next. I raised my arm, hoping she’d understand that meant I was all right. I didn’t want her to worry. I didn’t want to her to worry about anything ever again.

  “Cess,” I gasped and then a mask was placed over my face.

  “Breathe,” ordered a stern male voice with a Georgia flavored twang and I obeyed, my grateful lungs sucking up the oxygen. My eyesight was clearing and the terrible lightheaded feeling was receding.

  On the ground beside me I could see a team of paramedics already tending to Kevin. His eyes were still shut but his arms and legs were starting to move and I felt a rush of relief.

  There was a sudden commotion and soft arms circled me. I recognized Cecily’s touch immediately. She was crying again. She could hardly talk. “Are you okay?”

  “Hold on, ma’am,” commanded the Georgia accent. “Give him some room for a minute.”

  I didn’t want any fucking room. I only wanted her. But Cecily obeyed the order and backed away while I greedily inhaled the oxygen until my breathing was close to normal. Kevin was in worse shape, being loaded onto a stretcher, but at least he was moving.

  The paramedics tried to argue when I removed the mask but I waved them off. Cecily was crouched down a few feet away, watching me closely. She swiped at the tears that continued to fall but when our eyes met she smiled.

  “You scared the shit out of me, Branson Hickey.”

  I cleared my throat, grimacing at the dry rawness. “Sorry.”

  One of the paramedics promptly handed me bottled water and I guzzled it gratefully.

  Cecily glanced worriedly over to where Kevin was being loaded into an ambulance. “Will he be okay?”

  “I hope so.” I tried to get to my feet but the second I put weight on my right side I groaned out loud. It felt like someone jabbed a fire poker into my foot.

  Cecily was right there in a heartbeat. “What’s wrong?” She touched my face anxiously.

  “Nothing. Might have broken a bone or two in my foot, that’s all.”

  Cecily sucked in a breath, then braced an arm around me. “You need to sit down.”

  I coughed. “Seems to be a shortage of comfortable chairs out here.”

  “Smart ass,” Cecily muttered and nudged me in the direction of a nearby bench, shooing away the girls who were sitting there and taking videos of each other.

  “Holy shit, were you in there?” asked one of the girls as she trained her phone on me. “Were you in the fire?”

  “Nah, I just had a coughing fit from smoking my first cigarette,” I said with a straight face.

  The girl rolled her eyes and stalked away.

  “Let me see,” Cecily said, kneeling in front of me and examining my foot. She pressed a tender spot and I gritted my teeth.

  “Where’d that paramedic guy go?” she asked, rising and craning her neck around.

  “Cess.” I touched her hand. “Sit down.”

  “You need medical care, Bran.”

  “It can wait.”

  She pressed her lips together. I could tell she wanted to argue with me, that she was being snappy to avoid the recent mayhem of emotions. But she sighed and sank down next to me. My arm went around her automatically and she froze for a second, then settled in at my side.

  We watched as the fire crews contained the blaze and began assessing the damage to the building. From the ground it didn’t look too bad but that didn’t mean much. Anyway, what mattered the most was that a thorough search revealed no one had been trapped inside. Things might have turned out differently if I hadn’t gone in there after Kevin. A few precious moments could have meant the difference between life and death. But that wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

  Cecily shivered slightly and I tightened my arm around her. The quad was turning into even more of a circus as news crews arrived, along with university personnel who were trying to sort out what they were going to with a hundred and fifty frightened, homeless freshmen.

  Cecily glanced at the shadowy outline of Yucca Hall. “At least it didn’t burn down,” she said softly.

  “No, it didn’t burn down,” I said and knew she was thinking of the same night that I was thinking of. The night seven years ago when we stood side by side and watched the pride and joy of our once vibrant hometown disappear. For years I always thought of losing Cecily whenever I thought of the fire.

  “I should go see what the plan is,” she sighed. “Some of the kids are bound to be pretty shaken up.”

  “I don’t imagine they’re going to let any of us back in the building tonight,” I mused. “It’s full of smoke.”

  A gentle breeze picked up a few strands of her hair and she turned to me. “So what do we do now?” she asked and I knew what she meant.

  I squeezed her shoulder. “You tell me, Cess.”

  “Hey there, I saw you limping,” said a distinctly southern voice. I looked up to see the paramedic who’d tended to me when I busted out of the building. He pointed to a waiting ambulance. “We’re about to take off and wouldn’t mind giving you a lift to the hospital.”

  “Go,” Cecily said, touching my knee. “You need to have a doctor take a look at that foot.”

  “All right,” I said reluctantly. What I wanted to do was stay wherever she was but I also felt an obligation to see how Kevin was faring at the hospital.

  “Let me get you a wheelchair,” said the guy and I wanted to tell him I didn’t need a damn wheelchair but he was already marching away.

  I turned to Cecily and brushed my knuckles against her soft cheek. “We’ve got some more things to say,” I told her.

  She nodded. “Yeah. But I don’t think there’s much more that we ought to say tonight.”

  I withdrew my hand. I didn’t want to let go of her but she was right. This had been a harrowing, emotional evening and I couldn’t demand for it all to get sorted out right now.

  “Except there is one thing I need to tell you,” Cecily said. She leaned forward suddenly and touched her lips to mine, just barely.

  “I love you, Branson,” she whispered. Then she hopped off the bench and got swallowed by the crowd.

  If she had glanced back she would have seen that I was the only idiot in sight wearing a grin a mile wide.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Cecily

  Those of us who lived on the first and second floors of Yucca Hall were allowed to return to our rooms for a few minutes to retrieve some personal possessions before being transported to a nearby motel. Most of the third floor residents weren’t even allowed to do that. Damage from the fire had made too many of the rooms unsafe.

  For hours I had my hands full trying to calm students down and get them over to temporary housing. Twice I called the hospital and they said Kevin was in fair condition but no one by the name of Branson Hickey had been admitted. I was pretty pissed at myself for failing to get his cell phone number.

  I wound up sharing a room for the night with Maya, Saffron’s old roommate. Despite all the trauma of tonight’s events there was something of a party atmosphere in the hallways but when t
wo a.m. rolled around, everyone started wandering off to bed.

  “Are you leaving?” Maya asked as she yawned in one of the double beds.

  I shook my keys. “I’ll be back soon.”

  She shrugged and rolled over.

  My plan was to drive to the hospital and get some answers about Bran. Despite my earlier statement that nothing final could be solved on this crazy night I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until I knew where he was.

  “Cecily!” shouted a voice at my back just as I stepped outside. I almost ignored it because I knew who it belonged to.

  “Cecily!” she called again and this time I turned around with a sigh.

  “I’m kind of in a hurry, Dorritt,” I huffed.

  She rapidly closed the distance between us. “Are you heading back to Yucca?”

  “No, they roped it off for the night to finish the investigation.”

  Dorritt made a face. “I was hoping to sneak in there and get up to my room. It’s damned inconvenient not having access to any of my stuff.”

  “Oh.” I softened a little, noticing that she looked exhausted and was still wearing the same wrinkled sundress she’d been wearing earlier. “You need to borrow a change of clothes? I grabbed more than I really need for one day. The Dean of Students assured me we’d be allowed back into the building tomorrow.”

  She nodded gratefully. “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Wait here a minute.” I darted back to my room, rifled through my hastily packed bag and withdrew a pair of shorts and a CAU t-shirt, leaving as quietly as I could since Maya was already snoring away.

  Dorritt was slumped against a wall and chewing on a fingernail when I returned.

  “Thanks again,” she said when I handed her the spare outfit.

  I was about to rush past her and out the door when she added, “I saw Branson a few minutes ago.”

  I stiffened. “Where?”

  “Here. He came in on crutches, his foot all bandaged up. I asked him what the hell happened but he just kept going.”

  “Did he go to a room?”

  “I guess.”

  “Which one?”

  She cocked her head. “I didn’t follow him, Cecily.”

  “Right.” I did a sudden about face and headed back to my own room.

  “Weren’t you going somewhere?” she asked.

  “No,” I answered and kept walking.

  I crept back into the room and stretched out atop the covers of the bed. The whole night seemed surreal. Actually everything that had occurred from the moment I saw Bran again seemed vaguely dreamlike. Maybe because having him back was a dream I hadn’t realized I was secretly holding out for. There was a lot more than pain between us. There was passion and history and love.

  Love. After all this time. Love had never really died after all and now we’d both acknowledged it.

  I kept asking myself if that was enough. For regular people, maybe. Probably. But for two people with a complicated story like ours the answer was not as easy. The only thing I knew for certain is that I couldn’t push him out of my life.

  Between my racing mind and Maya’s loud snoring I shouldn’t have been able to fall asleep but I did. I woke up to the same phone alarm that woke me every morning at six a.m. It was the sound of fingernails scratching a chalkboard because that was a guarantee I would scramble to turn it off.

  Maya’s rest must have been much more difficult to penetrate because she was still snoring like a lumberjack.

  I had no interest in going back to sleep so I jumped in the shower, remembering when I emerged that my hair dryer was not among the things I’d brought with me. I toweled off my hair the best I could and slipped into an old pair of gym shorts with a black tank top. There was a handful of change at the bottom of my purse so I dug it all out with the intention of finding a vending machine since my stomach was growling.

  The hotel corridor was hushed and empty. I was glad since I didn’t want to run into anyone just now.

  Except Bran. I wouldn’t mind running into him one bit.

  And as if some cosmic power had overheard my thoughts I nearly fell over my ex-husband when I turned the corner to the lobby. He was sitting there casually in an armchair, eating a donut.

  “Hello,” he greeted me as if there was nothing unusual about this morning’s situation.

  “What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly, resisting the urge to throw my arms around him.

  He raised an eyebrow and held up a white box. “Last night I exchanged a brief interview with a pesky news crew for a meal and a ride over here. They showed up at the hospital and wanted to hear from the, ah, what did they call me? The Veteran Hero.”

  “Well, you do make a rather convincing hero,” I told him, smiling. “Kevin might have died if you hadn’t gotten him out.”

  Bran rolled his eyes. “Believe me, Cess. I’ve met heroes. I’m not one of them.”

  I cleared my throat and gestured to his bandaged foot. “Is it broken?”

  He grinned. “A little.”

  “A little?”

  “Two tiny fractures. Not a big deal.”

  I sighed with exasperation. “How is a broken foot not a big deal?”

  He shrugged. “Once after a bad parachute drop I suffered a broken ankle and three cracked ribs. Still managed to walk six miles to the rally point.”

  “Show off.”

  He laughed.

  “Don’t you have a room?” I asked.

  He gestured down the hall. “Yup. That way. Snagged the last one available and managed to get it all to myself. I had a nice nap and then took a long shower.”

  I was perplexed. “What are you doing sitting out here in the lobby then?”

  “Waiting for you,” he said as if it was completely obvious. “The front desk refused to tell me which room you were in and I figured you’d wander out here sooner or later.”

  My eyes scanned the lobby but I didn’t see what I was searching for. “If you have a broken foot don’t you need crutches to help you get around?”

  “Sure. They’re back in my room.”

  I groaned. “Great. So you’re walking around with a broken foot?”

  His shook his head. “Not right now. I’m sitting around with a broken foot.”

  “Bran,” I breathed in exasperation but he grabbed my hand, pulling me closer, and I forgot that I was going to scold him.

  “Have breakfast with me,” he said and even though he dropped my hand there was a glint of mischief in his eye.

  I glanced around. The attendant at the lobby desk was immersed in her phone. A young couple were cuddled up on the sofa by the front door. Their eyes were closed and they might have been sleeping. I recognized them as short-term refugees from Yucca Hall.

  “Where?” I asked, feeling my face redden.

  “Right here.” He picked through the box of donuts, withdrew one, and set the box on the floor. “Jelly. Your favorite.”

  I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile as I accepted the donut. “There’s no place for me to sit.”

  Bran patted his empty lap. “I happen to have some availability.”

  I hesitated, knowing that if Bran if put his arms around me I wouldn’t want him to let go. But now I couldn’t think of a single reason why I shouldn’t hold on to him as tightly as I could.

  Bran’s right arm went around my waist as I settled primly on his lap. With his free hand he reached down and grabbed another donut.

  “Boston crème?” I asked, remembering long lost mornings and breakfasts in bed.

  He smiled and took a bite. I nibbled on my donut but was finding it tough to concentrate on such complex acts as chewing and swallowing when I could feel the heat of his chest.

  “I ran into your friend Maura at the hospital last night,” he said when he was done polishing off his donut.

  “I wondered where she was. She must have heard about Kevin.”

  “Yeah. They wouldn’t let her in because he was still being worked on. I was ju
st sitting there in the triage area so she came over and talked to me for a few minutes to find out what I knew about Kevin’s condition.”

  “The two of them broke up last night. Before the fire. That’s why Kevin went on his little bender.”

  He nodded. “I know. Maura seemed pretty busted up about everything. When she stood up to leave I asked her if there was anything she wanted me to say if I got a chance to talk to him but she just shook her head. She said, ‘I think I’d lose it if anything happened to him but it’s better if he doesn’t know that right now.’ Then she left.”

  “Hmm.” I took the last bite of my donut, chewed slowly and then swallowed. “What do you think she meant?”

  His eyes wandered over my face and lips. His arm held me more tightly, pressing me closer to his body.

  “I think she meant that she cared about him deeply,” Bran said, “but there’d been too much ugliness between them lately and she couldn’t forgive him. So she figured it was better if they went their separate ways, at least for now.”

  “At least for now,” I echoed. “Maybe not forever.”

  “Maybe not,” he said, his breath quickening as he moved his hand up my back, briefly massaging the back of my neck in a way that sent shills down my spine. His broad thumb rolled into the hollow at the back of my neck, pressing just enough to bring a slight moan to my lips. His fingers traveled higher and then sifted through my hair.

  “It’s wet,” I whispered.

  Bran inhaled sharply and let his other hand rest on my thigh. “Good to know,” he said.

  “I-I meant my hair,” I stammered. “I showered and I didn’t have my hairdryer. So…it’s wet. That’s what I meant.”

  He chuckled. “I know, Cess.”

  This time I was the one who kissed him. His mouth was hot and tasted like sugar. I got lost in that kiss as our tongues met and danced with fierce abandon. I was aware that his hand had moved insistently higher, diving brazenly between my legs to stroke the soft skin inside my thighs. I knew what he wanted when he stopped and lifted me slightly so I straddled him as our mouths were fastened together, our bodies straining to tease one another through the flimsy layers of clothing. I felt as blissfully shameless as the kids who fucked around in the study lounge as I arched against Bran’s body. It’s possible I would have dry humped him until I came right there in full view of the lobby of the Blue Agave Motel.